


Mr. Goodbar

by Arsenic



Series: Discipline and Punish [45]
Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prison, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-26
Updated: 2007-11-26
Packaged: 2020-03-29 23:04:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19029760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arsenic/pseuds/Arsenic
Summary: How exactly is it that big dogs and little dogs mate?





	Mr. Goodbar

Dogs had always liked Gerard. This was a curse and a blessing, depending upon how one looked at it. When they were kids, and trying to go somewhere looking nice, it was inevitable that the one dirty mutt from the alley would find them and mess Gerard's pants up and their grandmother would sigh and have to try and dust him off as best she could. But it also meant that friendly, furry creatures could come out from a corner at any moment, ready to be friendly and furry right next to Gerard. When Gerard said, "We're going to get you a dog," with a proud little smile at the idea, Mikey didn't have the heart to say, "You mean we're going to get _you_ a dog?"

Bob made Gerard drive to the adoption, so he was a little on edge by the time he got there, but that didn't stop the dogs from straining toward him, whimpering when they found they couldn't get to him. Bob laughed under his breath. Tommy gave Gerard an assessing look. Mikey said, "Told you so."

Gerard scowled and explained patiently, "You're not for me, you're for him."

None of the dogs seemed to speak English. There was one dog, however, sitting in a corner. She wasn't hiding, or anything, she was just watching, not sure she wanted to buy whatever Gerard was selling. Mikey slipped away to walk toward her. She was silky, like some sort of whippet, maybe, but much, much smaller and more compact. Mikey knelt in front of her and she sniffed cautiously at him for a bit before deciding he was all right and inching forward to lay in his lap. She was too large for that really--almost forty pounds, Mikey would have guessed--but he wasn't going to tell her that. No, she was fine where she was.

Mikey petted at her head and asked the woman who'd been sitting with her, "How old is she?"

"'Bout a year, we think. The shelter's had her for almost six months. She's not really good with kids, so family adoptions are out, and she's sort of quiet at first, so nobody thinks she's much fun. She was a stray, we have no idea where she came from, but she's fixed and potty trained and really sweet natured."

"What kind of dog is she?" Tommy asked, sounding a little like he was worried the woman was going to say "alien."

"Not sure. Maybe a Borzoi mix? With something like a miniature Chow?"

Gerard knelt down next to Mikey to look at her. "How does that even happen?"

Bob said, "I'll explain when we get home."

The woman laughed. "One of the great mysteries of dog life."

The dog snuffled at Mikey's elbow as if to protest all the noise and promptly fell asleep. Mikey said, "She's warm."

"Like a fever?" Gerard asked.

"No," Mikey shook his head. "Like a blanket." Then he sighed. She was really too big for the apartment they all shared.

Just as he was about to carefully displace her, Gerard stood and asked, "So, how do we get this done?"

"Gee," Mikey said. "They're not gonna-- We live in an apartment." It was one thing to want something and know he couldn't have it. Mikey was pretty used to that. It was wholly another thing for Mikey to try and get turned down. He was used to that, too, but he knew which experience was easier.

The woman looked down at where Mikey was still curled up with the dog. She asked, "You gonna take her out for walks?"

"To the park," Mikey told her, like the park he went to was somewhere near the strip mart they were in, pristine and wealthy and utterly suburban.

"We've had her for six months and you're the first people who have shown genuine interest. I think we'll be able to cut corners just a little."

The dog was draped over his lap, making soft sounds like she was dreaming. Mikey was afraid to do the same.

 

*

_Frank,_

_Gee got me a dog. A real one, not stuffed, or anything. She likes to touch the backs of my knees with her nose and watch me flail. She's capricious like that. Also, she always looks at me when I'm eating like I'm betraying her and it's really hard not to give in, but I am strong and steady against her begging. Honest._

_I named her Ms. Goodbar. Tommy calls her Goody and Bob and Gerard call her MG, like the car. Mostly I just call her Mizzy, although I like Goody, too. She's a good girl, so it kind of fits. She comes when I call. She's super soft. She's pretty shy around other dogs when I take her to the park, but not mean. They said they found her in an alley, and she has some scars that I can feel under her fur, so I think she's just nervous. Gee and I can be like that, sometimes._

_I can't take her to the center, because she gets all growly around kids. I think she might have been abused by them. But that just means people have to come to our place more often. Alex pretends like he comes to see her_ a lot. _Poor kid. He taught Tommy how to make us chicken and rice the other night. It was really good. It didn't look that hard, I could probably do it. Maybe._

_I'm all set to start at the hospital this summer. I'm splitting my time between there and the center. I'm nervous as shit. I don't remember when the good things became scarier than the bad, but it sucks._

_Kisses from Mizzy. (Well, licks.),_

_Mikeyway_

 

*

Tommy and Jon liked to accompany Mikey when he took Mizzy to the park, then wander off to take pictures of whatever caught their eye. Mikey didn't mind, it was nice having company for the walk, especially when it was still cold out. Things were thawing, but it seemed clear that New Jersey was going to make them wait until at least May to really pack away their winter coats. And if he sometimes (always) wished that it was Frank with him instead, he had long accepted that there were some things that couldn't be changed. It wasn't that Tommy and Jon weren't good company. They simply weren't Frank.

Today, though, when they got to their destination, and Mikey let Mizzy free to do with the canine population what she would, Tommy roamed off and Jon stayed right where he was. Mikey asked, "Everything okay?"

"You been talking to Matt, Mikey?"

"My parole officer?"

"Yeah, okay, good point." Jon looked down.

"Jon, what--"

"He gave me a bag of Werther's Originals. I know your--"

"Jon, I didn't-- He hasn't said a word to me. Maybe Ryan? Or Spencer? I swear I didn't-- It's not-- When Frank did that, he was trying to help me recover from an attack."

Jon said, "I know. I know." He did. He'd seen the marks on Mikey's back after an unfortunate applesauce incident at the center one day and Mikey had told him the basic story. Not all of it, not nearly, but the important parts. The Frank parts.

Mikey tilted his head. "Do you, I mean, Matt's pretty hot. Objectively, and all. Do you not wanna try?"

Jon looked at Mikey with an expression Mikey didn't know how to read. He said, "I just wanted to make sure--"

Mikey waited. Jon shook his head. "Nah, you're right, _objectively_ he's prime."

Mikey snickered. "He's really nice, too. You're alike in a lot of ways, the ways you try and help people. Also, I bet he tastes good after he's sucked on one of your Werther's."

"Dirty boy," Jon said dryly. Mikey smiled in acknowledgment. Jon really had no idea. Jon said, "Hey, wanna know a secret?"

"Is it a good one?"

Jon smacked Mikey's shoulder lightly. "Just for that, I shouldn't tell you."

"Pretty please with a cherry."

"Hm," Jon pretended to consider. "I sent one of Tommy's photos in to a magazine contest. It's an art magazine, sort of hoity toity, not something that has a wide circulation, but the people who do see it? Yeah. Anyway. I don't want him knowing."

Mikey nodded. "No."

"But I think, I really think-- He's so good, Mikey. He really is."

Mikey looked over at where Tommy had gotten distracted from taking pictures by a little girl and her overwhelmingly huge dog. "Yeah. I know." They had put a few of Tommy's better prints up on the walls, with Gerard's art. "You're a good friend."

Jon said, "Sometimes," and loped off to take his own pictures.

 

*

_Mikeyway,_

_Ms. Goodbar's a good name for a dog. I would have named her Jimmy; I always wanted a dog named Jimmy. Like Hendrix. But I think I like your name better. Gerard drew me a picture. She's pretty. I kind of thought she'd be funny looking, but she's not. I should have known. Like attracts like._

_Zack's been kind of mopey, lately. His girlfriend's mom is sick and she's been out of town taking care of her. I'm trying to keep him distracted, but I'm running out of ideas. I think I've relearned everything I ever knew about motorcycles in the space of two weeks. I've been thinking about seeing if I can smuggle in some porn. Know of anything worthwhile? With tits involved? He likes tits._

_Tommy told me about Alex teaching him in his last letter. Don't know if it means anything, but hey, I do what I can from here. My mom loves your dog. She's thinking about getting one for herself, despite the fact that she would never let me have one growing up because a kid and a dog were just too much for one apartment. Granted, she has an actual townhome and no crazy five year old now, but whatever. I have full rights to complain and I stand by them._

_Frank_


End file.
